


some days

by unheard_secret



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Clara doesn't save River at the Library, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 16:57:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2236545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unheard_secret/pseuds/unheard_secret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The shadows rustle around her, but a truce has been struck. The Vashta Nerada brush against her, but they don't bite. </p><p>Or: Everybody knows that everybody dies, and nobody knows it like the Doctor. </p><p>(A small character study of Clara and Eleven at the library, set during and after The Name Of The Doctor).</p>
            </blockquote>





	some days

_‘So, we know River hadn’t met you before Berlin – We know her first time, but…’_

_‘Well, Rory and I were thinking, you see. You knew River before Byzantium – you knew her – which means you’d met her before, yeah? You knew who she was – and you knew she’d become a Professor which means you’d met her in the future – so we were wondering… River’s going to be ok, isn’t she Doctor. She’s going to be all right?’_

_‘…Doctor?’_

_51st Century, Date Unknown (Clara is 23, The Doctor is 903, The Doctor is 1204)_

The shadows rustle around her, but a truce has been struck. The Vashta Narda brush against her, but they don't bite. She watches him standing at the balcony, his companion beside him. She doesn't know the redheaded woman's name, but that's not surprising. The Doctor has never mentioned her. He doesn't mention a lot of things. 

She watches him and wonders if he understands what he's lost. She doesn't think he does. Not yet. 

He stands, looking out over the Library, like someone from long ago standing high on a cliff and watching a loved one carried away by the tide - but he doesn't know exactly why he's saying farewell, and he doesn't understanding that this parting is bittersweet at best. 

She can see his life more clearly than she can see her own at this point. Each moment is clear. They line up together, reaching into infinity; reflections of reflections, like mirrors echoing into eternity. She can see his life, but she can't see her own. She is nothing but the shallow echo of a human silhouette trapped eons ago, nothing but a trick of the light against the mirrors surface. As insubstantial and formless as smoke.

She watches him and wishes that she could explain, but he's forever standing out of her reach. 

There is a rustle behind her and she spins around. A familiar face hides in the shadows. She raises an eyebrow, and he shrugs. 

They stand there in silence for a long moment, but eventually she turns to walk away. There are other moments to chase into infinity. He stays behind her long after she is gone. 

...

Why is he here? He isn't sure. Most of the time he manages to hold firm, but sometimes his attention wanders, just for an instant, and he discovers that the TARDIS wants to see River as much as he does. He'll be standing by the console, lost in a moment of thought, and the central console will start to move, the stabilizers will turn on and before he has a moment to protest, he'll be with her. For a long time, the Storm Cage was the most common destination. In the beginning it had felt like he had a glut of days waiting for him there. Now he has whittled away at them, and only a measly handful are left. Now, it's more likely to be Luna University, the first time around. He likes meeting her there. River is a good student, but she is willing to be distracted. 

He tries not to go to her often. In his hearts he feels like he's already said goodbye, and every time he sees her fresh pain blossoms in his chest. It's been easier to concentrate now that Clara is travelling with him. The moments that take him away, the ones that see him dislocated from time and space, and take him to see her are growing fewer, and they are further and further apart. He feels a little like a miser, happier to horde his gold, than to spend it in visiting River. But, he knows that every time he sees her, it is one day less that he can spend with her in the future. For a man who lives centuries, the three years he has left -- scattered throughout River's life -- feel like gold too precious to spend.

He's never come to this moment before, but he supposes that it was just a matter of time before something brought him here – before the TARDIS brought him here to be reminded that this was a fixed point in time; a place where events could never be undone, rewritten, or changed.

 _She's_ here as well, standing close by in the shadows, and he feels weighed down by the guilt that always captures him when he find her in his past. Normally she flickers in his peripheral vision. Facing her front on is hard. This version of her, the one that is scattered throughout his timeline seems inverted. She is wearing red, not blue, and her features are strong and proud. This Clara has centuries behind her eyes, and she looks nothing like the woman who travels with him. She is an illusion, but she doesn't look thin and ephemeral. She looks solid. He wonders where she went when he dragged Clara from his timeline and back to his side in the TARDIS. He wonders if death was her only reward. 

She leaves, long moments after he arrived. They don't speak to one another, and he is grateful. The silence of the library should not be broken. Not by them. 

He watches himself, observing the way his own body bends to the loss of someone he knows is important, but who is still, in many ways, nothing but a stranger. He's so young, this other him. His back is bowed by sorrow, but he's not undone.

He watches himself and tries not to hate the way he isn't broken.


End file.
